


salute

by LtTanyaBoone



Category: X Company (TV)
Genre: Gen, Holocaust, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 23:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9570962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtTanyaBoone/pseuds/LtTanyaBoone
Summary: "She forces herself to look at him, in the Nazi uniform. Her stomach revolts, but she forces it down with a deep intake of breath that she slowly lets out again." (missing scene to S03E02)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of a character study, sort of a missing scene. I wanted to explore what being forced to throw the Nazi salute might do to Aurora.

**Warnings:** This contains references to the Holocaust. Aurora is a Jewish character, this deals with what may have been going through her head at the time.

* * *

 

They leave the party and her body feels like it is moving by itself. She dimly feels Alfred’s fingers dig into her arm, steering her as the distance between herself and her body grows, until every sound is coming through layers and layers of cotton and the things she sees don’t make any sense.

Suddenly, she returns, is slammed back, back into her body and reality. Her breath catches in her throat and she yanks her arm from Alfred’s grasp, doubling over as she begins to retch. Her hand finds the wall of the building they’ve just rounded the corner on and she leans forward, thankful for the support. The rough surface digs into her skin, leaves angry red marks on the palm of her hand.

Alfred hesitates before he steps closer, attempting to somewhat shield her from view.

“Are you okay?” he asks her, his voice filled with concern. She can feel his hand brush her neck and swats him away, unable to tolerate his touch. Especially right now, dressed like he is.

“Don’t,” she presses out between her teeth, her stomach heaving again. She allows a groan to escape her and forces herself to relax. For a moment, it works, and she has almost straightened again, before her stomach lurches and she quickly leans forward, throwing up again. The alcohol burns her throat as it makes it way back up, the taste is absolutely horrible. She coughs and reaches up to wipe the back of her hand over her mouth, leaving a red lipstick stain on her pale skin.

A handkerchief enters her vision, white and limp hanging between her and the wall of the building. She blinks, looks at the strange offering, resembling so much a white flag. Slowly, she takes it and wipes her mouth and chin, straightening. She’d like some water, to rinse her mouth and wash her face, but that will have to wait until they are back with Sinclair.

“Was there something you ate, or drank-” Alfred inquires and she shakes her head as she draws a ragged breath. This isn’t a first sign for being poisoned, she knows her body well enough for that. Or at least this poison wasn’t one she consumed with food or drink.

“It’s not that,” she tells him and folds up the handkerchief he gave her carefully before handing it back to him. She’d keep it, but she didn’t bring a purse, and she really isn’t in the mood to hold onto a vomit-stained piece of cloth all the way back.

She forces herself to look at him, in the Nazi uniform. Her stomach revolts, but she forces it down with a deep intake of breath that she slowly lets out again. This is Alfred standing right in front of her. There is nothing she has to fear from him. The uniform is just a costume, he doesn’t for one second believe in what it stands for. The only reason he put it on was to have a cover, nothing else.

Still, her fingers tremble when they reach for his hand. Alfred notices and furrows his brows at her, a questioning look settling on his face. He gives her hand a soft squeeze as he searches her face. Waits for her to elaborate, to make a decision about what they’re going to do. He knows their orders as well as she does, knows what the next step should be, but he still lets her call the shots and make the decisions.

“We should start walking,” she tells him and watches as he nods, offering his elbow to her again. She takes hold of it and leans against him as they fall into step next to each other.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, keeping his voice low. Aurora swallows thickly, feels how clammy her skin is, how tense her muscles have grown.

“It was the salute,” she tells him, her voice flat to her own ears. She thought it would be shaking when she finally said it out loud. Instead, it is devoid of any emotion, any hint as to what she felt in that moment.

Alfred looks at her briefly, but she keeps her head turned forward, counting street corners. The next one left, then two more and a right turn. There should be a car waiting for them there.

“The _Sieg_ -”

“Don’t say it,” Aurora quickly interrupts him, pressing out the words between clenched teeth. She feels Alfred tense beside her and gives his arm a soft squeeze. She isn’t mad at him for throwing it at the party, she did, too. They had to. But she cannot hear him say those words right now, especially not when he is dressed like he is.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, keeping his voice low as they pass some civilians. “I didn’t realize...” he trails off, and this time, she chances a look at him. He does seem uncomfortable, suddenly, in the uniform. Fiddles with his belt briefly before letting his hand fall away again.

“I’m sorry,” Alfred repeats, his voice soft and sincere. She shakes her head slightly and draws another shuddering breath. “I, forget, sometimes...” his voice trails off. At his words, Aurora clenches her eyes shut for two steps before she opens them again. Alfred, with his brain like it is, with his perfect memory, and this manages to slip his mind at times when it is always on hers. The danger they are in is terrifying, for any one of the team, she knows that. If they are caught, each and every single one of them will be tortured and killed, she doesn’t doubt that for a second. But still, it feels different, for her.

She’s the only woman on the team. She’s the only one with a German parent. She’s the only Jew.

The abominations this huge machine churns out, they’re directly targeting her, and her people. These people, these monster, they want her dead, and they want her people erased from this earth. It is a horrible, chilling thought. That someone can hate so deeply as to take away the personhood of an entire people, of reducing millions of people with their own lives and ideas and emotions and thoughts to a mass of targets they want eradicated. Her people have never done anything wrong, yet they keep getting persecuted, throughout history. And she is so weary and exhausted. Her very bones feel tired and ache with a pain that she hasn’t known before.

“I know,” she tells Alfred. This isn’t the time for anger. He was doing his job and playing his cover, same as her. She gets that. But she cannot pretend that being forced to throw the Nazi salute didn’t have an impact on her.

Part of her thinks she needs to talk to Sinclair about this. Let him know how this affected her, how it absolutely blindsided her. He selected her as Faber’s handler, unwilling to give up the identity of another Allied agent to the man when he could easily turn on them. Her and Alfred established a connection with the Nazi, they need to use that. Faber would never allow himself to be ordered around by someone without it, Aurora is well aware of that. But dancing with that man earlier felt so chillingly like dancing with the Devil himself. It made her skin crawl and itch and made her want to scrub herself clean afterwards.

She should talk to Sinclair. But she knows that she will do no such thing. She’s an Allied agent, she’s the sergeant of this team. They need her to lead them, now more than ever. So she will bear it when she has to, and when she is alone, she will scream and rage until her voice is hoarse from her yelling and she’s able to return to pretending once again.

This war will be over soon, one way or another, Aurora thinks. She can hold on until it is.

_fin._


End file.
